Kitchen Fairy Strikes Again: Missing (and found?) Fork

 

 In the past I've posted about weird episodes of missing items in this house, particularly in the kitchen. We had a fancy fork we both liked, nothing expensive or anything, just a cool looking fork. About a month ago it went missing. We looked everywhere for it. How could a fork just disappear? But it was gone. 

Last night, while cooking dinner (okay, putting a frozen pizza in the oven) I mentally called out to the Kitchen Fairy, as we have taken to calling the energy that makes things disappear, that I want my fork back. 

This morning, I needed a paper bag. I go into the bottom drawer and take out a folded paper bag that's been in the drawer forever. I open the folded bag, and there is a fork. But not the fancy fork, just a plain ol' fork. How did a fork get placed into a folded paper bag that has been kept in the cupboard for ages? I had the feeling the Kitchen Fairy was messing with me.

 

House fairies, etc. often take items, exchange items, find items from and for humans. Google "fairies and missing items" and there is all kinds of information on fairy lore and missing items. 

I will try making an offering to the Kitchen Fairy  and see what develops.

And that's the story of the Case of the Missing Fancy Fork.

Follow Up on Mantis Like Beings by Willamette River

 I bit of a follow-up I did on a sighting of mantis like beings along the Willamette River in Oregon over at Lon Strickler's blog Phantoms and Monsters.

Hoping For a Trigger

     Something quite obvious occurred to me the other night, while watching a program on UFOs. There are so many UFO shows on television and You Tube, etc. that it’s hard to remember what it was that I was watching. It was on television. No matter. The thing is, I was watching, yet again, another UFO program and I wondered why, after all these years, do I still watch any program that has to do with UFOs, and to a slightly lesser degree, any show that has to do with Bigfoot, ghosts, the paranormal, etc.?

     I haven’t learned anything. Not true; I’ve learned the facts of various cases. Barney and Betty Hill, Kecksburg, Travis Walton. . .

     I’ve learned about triangles and the Phoenix Lights and orbs. All kinds of orbs. Orange orbs. Ah, so that’s it. 

     I watch these shows hoping for a trigger. That by watching UFO programs -- especially ones to do with orbs, orange orbs -- something within my subconscious will shift, and I’ll remember. I’ll remember what happened during the missing time my husband and I experienced during the sighting. I’ll learn just what the orange orb was. I’ll discover why. Why it was there, why I experienced all the strange things in its aftermath. I’ll understand the connection between the orange orb encounter and all the encounters preceding it. Since childhood, I will finally know.

     So far, no such luck. Tried hypnosis, which turned out to be a waste of money. I expected a deep dive into a dramatic uncovering of memory. Instead, it was a gentle fun but empty guided sort of meditation. (“You are walking down a hall and see a painting. What is in the painting?”) Bleh. 

     I’m trying a remote viewing kind of thing. I have my husband involved, though he doesn’t know what it’s about. Just a target number I gave him. So far, nothing. 

     I draw and paint and try to work out through my art if something will suddenly erupt in a big There It Is! moment.

      I continue to watch to see if there are other witnesses who have had similar encounters. There are lots of sightings of small orange orbs far off in the sky. Footage exists all over the place of those kinds of orbs. Not just orange but red, green, blue, yellow. There are some cases of large orange orbs, like the one I saw, and the sense from the witness that the orb was aware, intelligent, playing with the witness. That’s what I experienced. One happened in Oregon, near the gorge, also in the nineteen eighties. Connected? 

     So far, no answers. Interesting elements, but no answer. And now that I’m in my sixties I wonder if I’ll ever find out. 

Shrines to Mary

 

Abstract Mary, ink, pen, marker on paper, July 2023

Two nights in a row, have had dreams about Mary, the Holy Mother, as well as general goddess energy.

First dream:

I'm setting up a shrine, or altar, in a glass display case that's on a table. The case is about four feet by three feet. I place rocks, crystals, shells, and images of Mary everywhere, as well as other goddess images, but Mary seems to take the center spot. A woman comes by and tells me I can't set up here because it might offend others who are coming into this place. (seems to be a large auditorium.) I tell her I am not going to dismantle my shrine; it's on them if they're offended, and no one told me not to set up. They had plenty of time, but expecting me to take down my altar two minutes before everyone is expected to arrive is rude. I continue setting up.

Second dream:

I'm setting up in a bedroom in my house. It's a tiny room, really a large closet. I am creating a space for Mary as well as other goddesses. Again, Mary is the focus. I am almost finished when someone hands me a small box. Inside is a votive candle inside a glass holder. The box is paper with really neat illustrations of Mary. I place it in the middle of the shelf. 

I am not a Christian and don't believe in a Christian god. I did go to Catholic school for eight years when I was a kid; was baptized and had my first communion and confirmation. I stopped believing in a literal Christian Bible based religion when I was fifteen. So I am not sure what the significance of this imagery is. However, I find myself creating a lot of Mary art.  

And yes, that is an orange orb in the drawing I did a few days ago. Hmm...

Memories Remembered and Lost

 July 23, 2023

Exploring the Orb: Self-reflexive investigation into an orange orb

     I’ve been wondering if one can remote view missing time. I realize I can’t remote view my own episodes of missing time. Or can I? I’ve had success with remote viewing; the little I’ve done. But trying to remote view your own event?I wouldn’t trust what came through. Still, trying to drift off to sleep, I gave my missing time target the code of 4242 and tried.

     Memory. I don’t remember a damn thing during those missing hours in context of my orange orb sighting, so maybe remote viewing myself is valid. So I started thinking about memory; how we know we had a dream the night before, for example, yet can’t remember the dream itself. Maybe a fragment. Yet we know, we sense, that we did dream, even though we can’t remember. That dream is out there, somewhere. Has to be. 

     While I was musing on this, I suddenly found myself remembering a house we lived in for a short time when I was little. It was on Bedford street in L.A. I was about six or seven, at the most. What is interesting about this memory is that I remember quite a bit about the house we lived in before when I was younger. I remember plenty of the house we moved into after the house on Bedford. I even remember being in the womb, and when I was a baby still in my high chair in the apartment we lived in on Mansfield. But Bedford, in between all those other places? Not much.

     Also, that house on Bedford was weird. The few memories I have are strange ones. One memory, I was alone in the living room. On the mantle were stuffed animals my step-father bought home with him for us. I remember staring at the eyes of these creatures, just staring and staring at them. They stared back. I remember being frightened by this. Another memory: I am upstairs. Of course, there was no second story, but for some reason I remember being upstairs in this house. It’s nighttime, I am leaning out the open window. I hear bells on the roof, clattering, and I know it’s Santa Claus. But it isn’t Christmas time. I am excited. One more memory: also remember this being upstairs, in my bedroom. A giant chrome or silver cylinder, with a grate inside it and ribbons blowing out from the object. It moved across my room. I was very very frightened. I did not like this thing one bit.

     When I was an adult, I asked my mother about the house, if there was a heater of some kind in my bedroom. I was thinking maybe I was mis-remembering, confusing a radiator or something for a giant monster-cylinder. She insisted there was no such thing in my bedroom.

     I remember strange things from the house we lived in before, including seeing what I call the Patio Alien. I remember experiencing all kinds of things in the house we lived after the Bedford house, like waiting for “them”, small barely visible beings carrying me out through doors and placing me in a large fir tree to wait for their ship. 

     But for some reason, I remember only those three disturbing incidents on Bedford. Why is that? 

     

Azarath, Paranormal Oil, Mean Nun

 Yes, the dreaming mind. Mystical weirdness:

 

The other night, dreamt I was driving a motorcycle up a steep hill. The hill was almost straight up and down. I was passing by all kinds of shops, open doors, tiny storefronts, selling all kinds of wares from all over the world. I stop by one and don't have a good feeling. The owner, a man, says he is Azarath, and he's red and black. A slightly satanic vibe but nothing Christian about it. Not that simplistic.

When I woke up I was thinking Azarath was the name of a goddess or god. It is in fact fantasy; DC comics. Which will probably seem obvious to many out there but news to me. An odd thing; yesterday I did a search for Azarath on a different browser and links came up defining it as a land beyond Israel. Today I'm on another browser and all that came up for Azarath was the DC reference.

Last night:

I'm with family, two of my sisters. We party all night but I don't, I don't drink or anything and turn in early. Next day is the last day of school, I graduate from college. Before the class I go to the grocery store and buy a special kind of oil: Paranormal Oil. If you rub it on your body you will be successful in your paranormal career. It cost eleven dollars. I bring it to the school and the teacher in charge, a nun, assumes it's for her and puts it in a display case. I'm upset because it's for me, and I want either the oil, or my money. 

This nun is mean. Really sarcastic nasty thing. She hands my paper back to me and whispers in my ear that she "should have given me a D but felt sorry for me." I still have two papers to hand in but I decide to let it all go. Forget school, I don't have to be here. Forget the paper, I know it's good. Forget the oil, she can do her witchy nun magick and I'll buy another bottle.

Debbie's Orange Orb UFO Diner

 

My dreaming mind:

A female relative of mine, a cousin? inherits a diner. Her name is Debbie. It's a cool looking diner, with a large counter and stools, lots of chrome, vinyl booths. Dome shaped, and huge picture windows all around. A diner in a fishbowl.  A happening place. It's two stories. Downstairs is the diner, upstairs are a few conference rooms. That's where I come in.

Debbie names the diner Debbie's Orange Orb UFO Diner. She appoints me Director of UFO Education and I'm in charge of the upstairs, arranging talks on the subject, workshops, etc. All to do with UFOs. 

On the diner's menu, is a blurb about "Don't forget to register for a talk in the Orange Orb room!" I post updates to the local paper. I have to add that I often post items I find interesting, but that doesn't mean I I always agree with them. I put it all out there open for discussion and debate and in general, to add to the data pile. The very large, huge, messy, tangled data pile.

 

White Orb Watercolor

 I have orbs on the brain. 

White Orb, watercolor on cold pressed paper, Regan Lee 2023

Why Won't Bigelow Share?

 Thinking about Skinwalker Ranch. The current owner, Brandon Fugal, states that Robert Bigelow won't share his findings with the new investigators. Why should he? It's his research. He's under no obligation to share. Yet, why won't he? Are we after the truth? Why so cagey? What's he keeping/hiding? No doubt a quasi top secret highly classified blah de blah contract with the government. Strange bedfellows and all that. Meanwhile, the Fugal team is busy busy busy and branching out to other ranches with similar highly anomalous episodes to investigate. And so is the government watching all this? Are they laughing their collective asses off? Surely they know what's going on. Do they? I don't know. It's all speculation. It can only be speculation. But that's what I'm here for.

It's entertainment, for sure. It's interesting, for sure. It's pretty obvious very strange stuff is going on out there, not just at the Skinwalker ranch but other nearby places as well. The area: Utah, Arizona, Colorado, New Mexico, full of UFO sightings, cattle mutilations, Bigfoot, aliens, and more. Going back hundreds of years.

So something is definitely going on. As well as a lot of distraction and silliness. And questionable partnerships. Dr. Travis Taylor for example. Ex-CIA individuals now investigating high strangeness. Do we believe their connections  to their covert pasts are no longer viable?

Part para-tainment, part highly interesting paranormal mind candy, part we're-fucking-with-you-all-bless-your-hearts. Wikipedia isn't impressed. No surprise there.

I watch the program because I'm a glutton for almost anything to do with the paranormal, from UFOs to Bigfoot to ghosts to you name it. That doesn't mean I believe everything they're telling us, and I always wonder at what they're not telling us. And I can't help but wonder about the government. Someone in there knows what's really going on, or at least knows a lot more than what we're being told. I have a hard time believing  that the government -- some shadowy, spooky, black - op faction -- isn't aware of what's going on out there and has an interest. Is the current Skinwalker team in cahoots? Are they dupes? Who knows. Well, someone knows of course, but it's not us.

Meanwhile, I'll continue to enjoy watching Skinwalker and its "Beyond Skinwalker" episodes but keeping in mind that there is a lot more going on than we're being told. 

Cow Mutilations, Hollywood Sign, a Question, and Some Haiku

Colorado Ranch Cattle Mutilations

Watching this week’s episode of Beyond Skinwalker Ranch, which actually was pretty good. Investigators Andy Bustamante (ex-CIA, ahem) and Paul Beban went to the Thomas Miller Ranch in Colorado, where UFOs, cattle mutilations, electronic shenanigans and other odd events were taking place. Even as the parties were discussing the unexplained phenomena occurring around them, lights in their kitchen started to flicker in and out. Not only that, they seemed to be responding to what was being said. 

Typical cattle mutilations; the cuts, the precision, the lack of blood, the targeted organs removed, etc. Going over the data at the Skinwalker Ranch, which has had its own cattle mutilations, Dr. Travis Taylor said something that caught my attention regarding the bodies. I’m paraphrasing but he said something close to “They leave the bodies where they leave ‘em they can leave them anywhere that’s not a thing.” I understood him to mean it’s of no account, not important data, that the bodies are left right where they would be found. 

Questions

Right where they would be found. 

Why? Why return the bodies at all? And why return them to the same area? Do they want us to know? Want us to see? Why? Or is it just that “they” don’t have the room or patience to deal with a dead carcass and it’s a simple matter of convenience and it doesn’t mean anything at all? We don’t know, can only speculate. But it is an important question. Clearly, “they” want to be known. Not seen -- or at least, not seen as they are -- but known.

The Hollywood Sign

When I lived in Hollywood, California, friends and I would walk up to the Hollywood Sign.   Later, my now husband and I would walk up there all the time. On one hike up to the sign we found a cow bone. It looked exactly like a cow bone left on the NAME  ranch.  For some reason (romantic, nostalgia) I kept that bone all these decades . For awhile it lived inside the house on a bookshelf, later, I moved it to the garden, where, as you can see, all kinds of critters enjoyed taking nibbles and gnaws from it. It’s lasted oh, forty-five years I’d say. I don’t know if the bone came from someone’s cook-out or a ritual of some kind. (Seriously, I have come across some very weird and uneasy things in the hills and canyons of L.A.) I’m not suggesting the bone was a left-over from an alien/black ops mutilation. Simply a slightly strange episode.

Haiku

I wrote these over time; some are a few years old, some I wrote within the last year or so. By the way, I have a Facebook group called Haiku Daddy-O, you are welcome to join. It's not just about haiku but beat poetry, the arts, off beat and beatnik, jazz, irreverent musings, etc.

the Hollywood Hills

red tiled roofs and stucco

jasmine scents the dusk

*

The Observatory

orange haired woman sits

beneath  boxes of stars

*

Big D's stories

of Hollywood cops

watching his friend die

*

the Hollywood sign

"Saturn floats on our oceans"

a copper smog rains

*

Ivar St., Hollywood oil pastel on paper

Am I Jaded?

 This is what I posted on my Facebook group Orange Orb Paranormal:

Oh I don't know, am I jaded? Has it really happened? All this "disclosure" on UFOs (I refuse to say UAP) just seems like we've been here before. So many times, we've been here. And the government is all perky and being upfront. I say bull. They have an agenda, and it isn't because they are altruistic entities. Maybe some of the players are simply well meaning naive dupes, while others are far from it. But the whole current thing stinks.

Whitley Streiber’s THEM, Sounds, Ringing Phone

 Whitley Streiber’s THEM, Sounds, Ringing Phone

I’m reading Whitely Strieber's book, Them. In Them, Streiber has shared some of the hundreds of letters he and his late wife Anne received following the publication of Communion. Following each letter, or group of letters, Strieber offers his own thoughts on the contents. His comments are extremely interesting; metaphysical, philosophical. He asks questions and goes off in directions that 

In one chapter, Streiber discusses the experiences of those who have heard strange sounds during alien being/OOBE/exploding head/ events. Buzzings, ringing, train like sounds, rumblings, and more. 

As I’m reading this section, I wonder where the “aliens” are. (I say alien but that does not necessarily mean ET. As Streiber is very clear -- and I agree -- we don’t know what “they” are. ET, alien, other, who knows.) I wonder why I haven’t had many experiences lately (and yet I have, just different) not as intense as they once were. Old age? Does that have anything to do with any of this? Am I paying enough attention? I decide as I put away my Kindle and drift off to sleep, that I will start paying close attention!

I’m awakened by the phone ringing. Just one loud phone ring, then nothing. Like the caller hung up after one ring. I’m very annoyed, who the hell calls at 3:00 a.m.? Unless it’s bad news, usually. Could be a misdial. The phone did not wake up Jim, who usually hears the phone before I do. “Hmm,” I think, and go back to sleep. 

Check the phone in the morning. We have a land line. The machine lets us know if any calls, including hang-ups, came in. Nothing.

(Reminds me of what I posted about recently; hearing a voice shout out “Nigel!”)

This all could be connected to the phenomenon. UFOs, aliens, interactions with “them,” others, inter-dimensional creatures, our own minds communicating with the unseen, intention setting, them answering the call, synchronicity.

Or, as they call it, “chemo brain” and has nothing to do with any of the above. But I doubt that. This phone ringing episode is too familiar, smoothly fitting in with all of the other weird synchronicities connected with this whole UFO and Beyond stuff. 

Green Cactus-Lizard Being

 

Green Warty Cactus Being, oil pastel and pencil

For awhile after my orange orb sighting in Oregon, I was having many weird paranormal episodes. This is one.

It was early evening, late afternoon. Not quite dinnertime. I was reading on the bed in the bedroom. I forget what I was reading, very likely a mystery. I felt fine, the day was fine, everything, fine. Without warning I was propelled into a scene. I call this a "mind post card" -- it was as if someone has inserted this scene, complete with sound, smell, taste, into my head. I was actually there. 

I found myself in a desert with boulders all around, It appears I startled this being, who was squatting dow and doing something, like digging in the rocky sand.  He turned to me and was not at all happy I was  in his territory. I received the very clear message that I did not belong there, and I was to get out. I was to get out now!

This being was humanoid, sort of. Not exactly lizard like, more cactus like, if a cactus become a bipedal being. Green with red eyes and spiky warty things all over his body. He seemed to be about four feet tall. 

The whole thing lasted maybe ten seconds but it was so intense, so damn real, that I screamed. Then I found myself back on the bed, back in my reality. It scared the hell out of me. I've had similar experiences like this where I was "lifted" out and placed into another scene, someone else's reality.

Messages, Whistleblowers and Trust

Whitley Strieber was the guest last night on Coast to Coast. (He has a new book out; Them.) One thing Strieber said that resonated with me concerned whistleblowers. Streiber stated he didn’t trust government whistleblowers in the context of UFOs because they never seem to get “dinged.” I’ve often wondered the same thing. Ex-military, ex-government guys come out, appear on TV shows, podcasts, and radio, and spill the UFO beans. And then walk about freely without repercussions. Some say they are harassed, but they seem to handle it. I’ve always been suspicious of these kinds of whistleblowers. How much is true, if any of it? Why are the individuals allowed to tell their stories? How much is misinformation, disinformation and, no information at all, just narratives to distract?

There have been people who have disappeared, been found dead under questionable circumstances, and harassed by black helicopters, MIB, and electronic manipulations. How much of the information those individuals let out was true? Hidden in plain sight?

How much was show, how much was distraction? 

Whitely also said not to believe the aliens/visitors/ETs. They have messages, oh yes. Just because they tell us something doesn’t mean it’s true. I’ve been saying that for years.

So much, this maze of lies, cover-ups, half-truths, disinformation, misinformation, distractions, and more. . . we shouldn't forget that disclosure is only what "they" decide to reveal. How much, how little, when, and how. Pay attention to the timing, the context, the history, the juxtapositions. 

Stop the Selling and Farming of Our Alien Overlords (Petition)

Petition to stop the killing and farming of octopi. 

If you haven't seen My Octopus Teacher, here's a link. My one criticism of the documentary is the filmmaker's justification for not getting involved when he most absolutely should have.